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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416201">An Introduction to the Artist and his Canvas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferith12/pseuds/Ferith12'>Ferith12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Games of Soldiers [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Meeting, Francis is a Revolutionary for the Aesthetic, Gen, Gilbert Gives No Shits</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferith12/pseuds/Ferith12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If you were to use one word to describe Gilbert Beilschmidt’s physical appearance it would be “uninspiring”.<br/>“Vain” is not strictly a word which you could use to describe Francis Bonnefoy’s physical person, but it is certainly one of the first that would come to mind upon viewing it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>France (Hetalia) &amp; Prussia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Games of Soldiers [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Introduction to the Artist and his Canvas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If you were to use one word to describe Gilbert Beilschmidt’s physical appearance it would be “uninspiring”.  If you were to use one word to describe it given the context that he was a career, it would be “small”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gilbert Beilschmidt had pale skin and pale blond hair and pale blue eyes, the over all effect of which was to make him look washed out, monochrome and dull.  His height was on the shortish side of average.  As for muscles, he possessed them.  He was muscular in the sense that he was strong, but his physique was far from herculean, and overall his appearance was bony. His features were the only part of him that could be remarkable.  They were sharp and unappealing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Given all of this, Francis Bonefoy was deeply, deeply disappointed upon meeting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you were to use one word to describe Francis Bonefoy’s physical appearance, it might be “handsome”, or perhaps “striking”.  “Vain” is not strictly a word with which you could describe his physical person, but it is certainly one of the first that would come to mind upon viewing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Francis Bonefoy had what in the Capitol was called a “natural” look.  His hair was an improbable shade of gold that shone obnoxiously dazzling in the light.  He was a man who clearly approved of the shape of his own face, and wore copious amounts of make-up to enhance, rather than obscure or distract from his features.  He was tall, though not extraordinarily so, and his form was slender and elegant.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gilbert Beilschmidt, upon meeting him, was deeply unimpressed.  But then, Gilbert had not expected to be impressed by his stylist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Francis said, not trying too hard to disguise his disappointment, “How are we going to make you beautiful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gilbert stood like a headstone rooted in the earth, like a gun held at attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to look like a soldier,” he said, and for a moment his eyes, the color of the least romantic metaphor for blue, were like ice and steel.  Francis’s artist’s imagination sparked with it.  This, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>he could work with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Dressing a tribute for war was very nearly treason, but what did that matter compared to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>drama</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it all?)</span>
</p>
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